#useless screaming

Look. I’ve been delivering to this particular housing development for well over a year now without a problem - the vast majority of the time, to the one customer I was headed to when you stopped me. Now, I get it. The parking spots under the awnings are assigned to particular residents.

To be fair, today was the first I have ever heard of it, ‘cause guess what’s not posted? Parking rules. Having parking spaces numbered doesn’t indicate much about if one should or should not park there.

Also, I suppose I could be like the vast majority of delivery people I’ve ever encountered, meaning fucks given to the parking spaces I’d just idle the car parallel to them instead, risking theft or the much more likely snarl of obstructing traffic flow, and then risking getting hit.

None of us want that, because if nothing else that blocks traffic for longer. Telling me the spots are owned - repeatedly, as if I somehow didn’t grok, acknowledged, and respond to the first several times you did so - isn’t gonna make the lesson stick any more than it did the first time, it’s just gonna upset me.

I get you’re grumpy - you pulled up to park at home, and some kid hauling pizza from her car was in your spot - which is often the one I park in, ‘cause it’s always fuckin’ empty. And upon you giving your first distressed objection, I immediately moved my damn car (to *LE GASP* a different spot under a different awning), before completing my delivery.

That glorious, regular venture usually takes no more than 5 minutes at the ludicrous MOST, and I am never once out of sight of my car.

Lecturing me again on my way back to my vehicle was overkill, and I still wonder about you starting with “Are you delivery?” No, I’m the goddamned tooth fairy. For future reference, if I’m giving that many “sirs”, to you, it’s several major red flags. Can’t imagine where I got that habit. >_>

Then, after taking my damn sweet time to text the mothership to declare the food safely delivered, I took a slow spin around the parking lot. No signs posted for parking restrictions. The spots available for visitor parking - also not indicated by “visitor” tags anywhere, like several OTHER delivery locations I can name, where hey, guess where I park? - are all at opposite ends from my particular destination.

So. No parking in that particular bay. Got it. And fuck you very much with a rusty spork, “sir”. Go join a home owner’s association and bitch at someone else.

Dear doc:

*squints* Oh, oh I recognize this tactic. “We can schedule followups with [other specialty], you’ll get a phone call and if nothing shows up in a few days give us a call and we’ll schedule it, you know, just in case it gets lost.” You did that with the PT I would like for my carpal tunnel, which never happened because when my primary complaint to chronic exhaustion, I don’t have the fuckin’ spoons to followup especially when I’ve got this moderately under control and you’re a half hour away.

YES, ASSHOLE, I WOULD LIKE A FOLLOWUP PROCEDURE even if we’re both moderately certain this is just an overeager lymphnode. That is why I am IN YOUR OFFICE at buttfuck early in the FIRST PLACE, ‘cause if I just wanted someone to do a physical exam and poke the damn thing I could do that at home!  Gods wept, I might be a basketcase, but I have had better results than you, SIR, you and your obsession with my weight which WOULD go down if I HAD ANY FUCKING ENERGY TO DO SHIT. Oh, oh, and hey, did you remember that fatigue is a symptom I’ve reason to be paranoid about? I HAVE A MEDICAL HISTORY with this issue, SIR, which is why I’m worried enough to bring it to a doctor! I wouldn’t be worried in the least if I didn’t, but I do so here we are.

Bet you didn’t even hear that anecdote about the last time this happened, and I started off with an initial misdiagnosis, and how well THAT went. You miserable clusterfuck of a pcp.

The single most annoying part about this anecdote is that I have no one to blame but myself. Which is mostly annoying because I’m trying to do better about not dragging myself but BOY do I wanna swear a lot.

Aside from the new folks (hi? I have no idea where you came from but you are welcome!), I suspect you’ve noticed the weird radio silence lately.

I’ve been too damn tired to blog anything. Or write anything. Or honestly even drag myself to bed to nap, which should tell y’all something about the level of exhaustion I’m grappling with. This has been confusing to me. The only thing that’s really changed lately was catching a bug (normal, with the usual ridiculously long tail to it), and changing from a B12 supplement that my doc thinks is unnecessary to a B complex supplement, since I’d noticed improvement so I’m freaking determined to keep up SOME kind of vitamin B supplement. And the doc was vaguely supportive of going to the complex, though he really doesn’t think it’s necessary.

But I just keep dragging more, and more, and more.

It finally sank in a few hours ago that no, I really was doing better on the B12, so maybe I ought to swap back to that? Possibly? I mean, the doc insists it’s on the upper level of fine, but I’m already considering getting a new doctor anyways, and I feel worse.

Then, genius that I am, I actually compared the bottles rather than just snagging the only B12 or B complex options available to me.

For the last few weeks, instead of getting 1000 mcg of B12 daily, I’ve been getting 100. 

When I ask “will all the information transfer over?” that means ALL the data. When I further clarify “apps and photos and such?” that does NOT mean “do i have to download all this shit all over again?” When I go even further and say “so you can just copy everything over from one phone to the other?” THAT DOES NOT FUCKING MEAN you essentially give me a new phone that is right next door to my old one for maximum uncanny valley effect, expect everything to be saved to the cloud, and then to add further insult to egregious injury YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE THE COURTESY TO GIVE ME A NEW FUCKING BATTERY, AND INSTEAD YOU USE MY OLD ONE.

Me: YOU WANNA BET, MOTHERFUCKER?

*watches thing*